


together, through the rain

by antagonists



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-28 13:26:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6330973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antagonists/pseuds/antagonists
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They’re going to Argentina, this time. Kise’s been there once, maybe twice, remembers the steep, cloud-haloed and snow-peaked mountains. He doesn’t like hiking, but Yukio’s eyes shine at the sight of open sky and open waters. Maybe when they’re finished with whatever they’re doing, he’ll ask Yukio to go rock climbing with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	together, through the rain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [madoqa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/madoqa/gifts).



> THIS IS FOR MY BELOVED JUNE I 사랑 U LOTS

+

 

Over the sound of wind and rain hitting the windows, Yukio’s voice sounds like an unsteady radio feed. Quiet, low, lulling. The glow of skyscraper-high neon advertisements bleeds through the cheap curtains.

 

“Hey, get up.” A warm hand settles on his shoulder, shakes gently. Kise has always liked Yukio’s hands; they’re oddly proportioned, pinkies a bit short and crooked, palms broad and rough from work. “We have another job. Leaving for the station in ten.”

 

“Fifteen,” Kise whines, warm beneath the piles of blankets he insists on having for their bed. Rainy weather makes him both sleepy and cold, but Yukio doesn’t often give into his pleas for cuddling.

 

“Ten,” Yukio repeats, bending down to look Kise in his sleep-smudged eyes. He smiles softly before pinching Kise’s nose shut and ignoring his nasal protests. “Stop being lazy and get out of bed, y’hear? We have a _job_.”

 

He drags Kise out of the bed with the blankets and mushed pillow fort and all, looks away at the sight of Kise’s clean, bare skin.

 

Half-cradling his reddened nose, Kise pulls his clothes on while Yukio turns his back. On go the black knee-length socks, the black slacks, white shirt, and—ah, the tie. He’s still not used to doing the knot quite right on his ties, and instead of tying it himself, he stares unabashedly at Yukio’s trimmed fingernails and the back of his tanned hands. _Nice_.

 

“We’re going to be late,” Yukio grumbles as they walk out the apartment door and take the elevator thirty floors down. They only have one umbrella (haven’t bought another one since they lost one in Beijing on that one assignment), and he insists on being the one to hold it as they begin walking down the night-dim streets of Tokyo. Kise doesn’t say anything about how close they’re pressed against each other, ignores the harsh steel of the revolver he feels tucked under Yukio’s belt. In Yukio’s other hand, a small briefcase with a day’s worth of travel clothes and the cash they’ll need.

  
“We left _one_ minute late,” Kise says.

  
“Late,” Yukio insists, eyes glowing as they pass a flickering streetlight. There’s a large, gaping puddle on the side of the road; they sidestep around it in sync, dark heels hard against the old asphalt.

 

Kise rolls his eyes and counts the steps to the station. “You never told me what our job was.”

 

“You usually never ask.”

 

They’re going to Argentina, this time. Kise’s been there once, maybe twice, remembers the steep, cloud-haloed and snow-peaked mountains. He doesn’t like hiking, but Yukio’s eyes shine at the sight of open sky and open waters. Maybe when they’re finished with whatever they’re doing, he’ll ask Yukio to go rock climbing with him.

 

Yukio waits for Kise to sit before he does, checking his watch out of habit.

  
“Flight’s in an hour,” he says. Thirty minutes to the airport.

 

“Wake me when we’re there,” Kise says, turns slightly, and rests his head against the window.

 

+


End file.
